Lola just ate Jesus…

Poor, tiny, baby Jesus sleeping in his manger. I bet he never saw it coming. That giant, wet, bulldog mouth with a tongue the size of a dinner plate…

Lola was sniffing the new Christmas decorations and when she was done I noticed that baby Jesus was missing from his mother’s embrace. I walked over to look for it and couldn’t locate it anywhere. It wasn’t under the shelf or hiding behind the cow that the shepherd is watching over.

Baby Jesus was gone.

I looked over at Lola and she has a panicked look on her face. It’s not her ‘I’m in trouble and you’re going to yell at me’ face. No. It’s her ‘oh my god I can’t breathe and I’m dying’ face.

Baby Jesus was trying to kill my sweet, sweet little Lola.

I get my hand into Lola’s mouth and I’m praying I can fish this murderer out of her throat before she dies. After an agonizing few moments, I pulled baby Jesus out.

I never thought I would want to punch baby Jesus in the face.

I held back – mostly out of respect and a little bit out of fear of retaliation.